Only Half
by Lost In The Lies
Summary: It's hard to continue when you've lost you're other half, but sometimes you have to.


_Crack_

Roxanne opened her eyes as she appeared on the hill, and the first thing she saw was the forest. She took a sharp breath, having not expected it, as her eyes easily found the long winding path that led down to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. The path she had taken many a times to get to a place within the village that she wasn't sure she could ever visit again. Not after recent events.

Roxanne tore her eyes away from the path and looked at the house in front of her instead. She slowly walked up to the front door. She'd visited this house many a times, but never had she entered through the front door. With a fireplace and door directly into the room where they resided, what was the use? But Roxanne had to prepare herself for what she would find...she'd, ashamedly, left rather angrily last time she had visited, and hadn't been around for two weeks, and so was afraid of what she was going to find.

Roxanne hesitated before she knocked on the door. After she did her eyes widened and she turned to leave, but the door opened behind her and a voice said quietly, "Hello Roxanne."

Roxanne couldn't help but wince as she turned around slowly to look at Luna Scamander. Maybe she would have preferred to take the back door – it would have been better then facing this. Luna, usually not fully there, and a dreamy note to her voice, it made you shiver with her voice so empty, and her face blank. She's pretty sure she would have preferred Rolf to answer the door – it would have been a little less creepy if his demeanour was like this.

"He's in his room," Luna said quietly without Roxanne having to even say anything, and Roxanne just nodded her head as she avoided the older woman's eyes, slipping past her.

Roxanne paused as she came to the door she was looking for, having to double check to make sure it was the right one, barely having approached it from this side. Tentatively she raised her fist and knocked. She got no response, so after a few minutes she entered.

Roxanne was right in her guess that it had gotten worse than it had been when she left two weeks ago. The room was as dark as night (and it was the middle of the day) with all the curtains closed and the fire extinguished. Clothes covered the floor along with garbage, and there was broken glass in many places (and not just from the broken mirror that hung on the wall). Pictures were torn to pieces, and books lay ripped apart. The walls were damaged, stained with some unidentifiable stuff, in other spots blood, many dents in the wall from physical abuse.

Roxanne grimaced as she looked through the room, averting her eyes from the empty first bed, and landing on what seemed to be a pile of blankets on the second. She guided herself through the room, looking away from the damaged door that led outside, remembering the rage she'd left in last time, before sitting down on the side of the second bed.

"Lysander," Roxanne whispered to the pile of blankets, knowing the person who hid within them could hear her clearly. When no response was made she sighed in frustration and, working hard to keep her temper under control (a hard feet for a red head like her), she began digging through the blankets. Finally, having no success in her attempt to find the person that hid beneath, she flicked her wand, the blankets soaring off to join the clutter on the floor.

Lysander Scamander lay on his side, his back to her, in only a pair of lounging pants, his chest bare. His mop of dirty blond hair lay dishevelled and there was no doubt he needed to wash. He gave no notice, though, that the blankets had been removed, or that Roxanne was even there, continuing to lie with his back to her.

"Lysander," Roxanne whispered again, putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly. "You can't stay like this, Ly, you've got to get up, get out." When he still made no notice of her presence, she pulled his shoulder, ripping him back so he fell with a small 'thump' on his back, the shoulder she had her hand on landing on her knee.

"He's gone Annie," Lysander whispered in a croaked voice that sounded like it hadn't been used since her last visit using the nickname she hated even more then Roxie, as learned when James used it, showing that he really didn't care what happened to him. He looked up at her with dead eyes, his face void of all emotions. "What reason do I have to live?"

Her eyes looking away from his and her hand clutching his shoulder tighter were the only signs Roxanne showed that her boyfriend saying the only reason he had to live was his brother affected her. She took a breath to steady herself before looking back at him and saying firmly, "What about Keira?"

A flicker of emotion crossed Lysander's eyes before disappearing, but it gave Roxanne hope. He didn't say anything as he looked away but Roxanne was never one to give up. "Huh? What about your god daughter, your niece?"

"She's got her mother," Lysander whispered, not looking at her. Roxanne shook her head as she shook his shoulder. It really was hard to remember that Lysander hadn't left his room since the funeral two days after Lorcan's death, so he didn't know how others were taking it.

"You really think you are the only one that's hurting from this Ly?" Roxanne said a little harsher then she had meant to. "Lucy just lost her husband – and now she has to explain to a two year old why her daddy isn't around. Keira's also been asking where Uncle Ly is – what are we supposed to tell her?"

"Tell her he's with her daddy," Lysander said harshly, the first hint of emotion since Roxanne had arrived.

"Don't you dare," Roxanne practically snarled, gripping his shoulder even tighter. Lysander's eyes fluttered shut and his body sagged – she knew he wouldn't, no matter how much the idea appealed to him.

"Lysander, please," Roxanne said again not helping but let a few tears escape as she shook him once more. But he seemed to have shut down again, and he turned his head away from her once more, his dead eyes staring blankly at the fireplace, and no matter what Roxanne did she couldn't get any response. Finally, she left.

Roxanne appeared at the Burrow and entered starring dully at the ground, not even looking to see what family members were present. Her long hair fell in front of her face as she closed the door behind her.

"How is he?" Roxanne's eyes fluttered up to see her brother looking at her worried, a few others watching her as well. She sighed as she ran a hand through her hair.

"No better – worse even," Roxanne finally said as her shoulders sagged and she saw the others grimace or sigh. It had been a shock when Lorcan's death had come a month ago – it was an accident. He'd been at a store that had been doing a demonstration of some sort – nobody was quite sure what happened, really. Some say a spell went astray, others say he was foolish and thought it was real and had joined in an attempt to help – other's that someone had knocked into him and he fell against it, others still that it was just unsteady. Still, the bookcase collapsed while Lorcan stood beside it, and with the millions of books it fell on Lorcan, crushing him with the weight. A total accident – yet people had still found people to blame – the people of the demonstration, who had turned up murdered, by who was unknown, the store, which had been burned down, the culprits unfound.

Lorcan's funeral had been held two days later (which the attendance number had been more than anybody would have guessed, especially for a twenty year old kid) and since that day Lysander hadn't left his room. He'd gone through the shocked stage – that ended the day of the funeral. Then the upset stage, that only lasted a day. After that came the angry stage – this explained all the broken, torn and abused objects that littered the room. The first time Roxanne had come was the day after the funeral – his upset stage. She came the day later to see his sadness change to anger – it wasn't another week until she came then, then almost a week until she came again. She came the day after that when his anger started to disperse into what she had witnessed today – emptiness. That's when she'd gotten angry and left – and hadn't come back for two weeks because she was afraid of what she would find, and after what she had witnessed today, she had good reason.

Suddenly Roxanne heard a loud _crack_ outside, and she turned to see Molly walk through the door, sighing as she ran a hand through her hair.

"How's Lucy?" Percy asked as he sat forward in his seat, looking at his youngest daughter with worry in his eyes.

"She just broke down again, I left Dominique and Victoire with her," Molly said with another sigh, a pained look that didn't belong on that fragile face. Ever since Lorcan died Lucy had been having random break downs. The first week after his death she had done nothing but cry, curled up in a ball. Unlike Lysander, however, she had more of a reason to get back on her feet – a two year old daughter who'd just lost her father.

So finally, with a bit of effort, Lucy got back on her feet and took back Keira from Victoire and Teddy who'd been looking after her. But someone always needed to be watching her, because at random moments she'd have break downs, with absolutely no causes that could last hours. She'd drop everything she was holding and collapse, crying (unless she was holding Keira – she had enough mother instincts in her to hand her off to another before she collapsed). They were happening less and less, only one a day now instead of three.

"Why Victoire?" James asked, nobody needing to ask about Dominique, her being Lucy's closest friend.

"She's great with Keira," Molly said and everybody nodded in understanding. It was sad that the one cousin, who wanted kids – a family – the most, was the one cousin who couldn't have kids.

Molly sat down on a chair, leaning back, her eyes shut in exhaustion. Roxanne stood there in the middle of the room for a few seconds before she walked up to her dad, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Dad, I didn't want to ask you to do this, but I can't think of what else to do, I'm afraid of what will happen if Lysander stays like this. Y-you're the only one who truly understand what he's going through – please, can you talk to him for me?" Roxanne pleaded, never having wanted to ask her dad to do this, but not being able to stand with a loved one in pain like this. She was afraid how her dad would react, dredging up bad memories from the past – she already didn't have a father on April 1st.

George stared into his daughter for a few seconds before taking a breath and giving a slightly forced smile, saying "Of course I will."

* * *

Lysander continued to stare desolately at as his door opened again – it was most likely just one of his parents coming to bring him more food, or Roxanne coming for another attempt to get him up and moving again. It all meant the same to him – nothing.

"Nice place you got here – bit of a mess, though." Lysander rolled over so fast his elbow hit the wall but he barely felt it. There sitting on the..._other_ bed was George Weasley, his hands behind his head as he leaned against the wall, his knees propped up.

Lysander starred at him blankly, a slight feeling of surprise stirring within him before it disappeared, though still not being able to understand why he was there. George finally looked over at him, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, and said quietly "It doesn't help, you know. This wallowing in self pity – it just makes it worse."

Suddenly Roxanne's five year old voice ran through his head, _"My dad was a twin too, you know. He lost his twin though – in that big fight they tell us about. My Uncle Fred – he's who my brother's named after. They say dad's never been quite the same as he was with him – that he lost his other half."_

"How long did you?" Lysander said quietly, his question clear. George shifted uncomfortably, muttering something under his breath. Finally he sighed and looked at Lysander, saying, "Almost four months."

"Then I've still got three more months," Lysander said as he pulled his blankets over his head. George sighed in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair.

After a few moments of silence, George finally said, "Want to know how I finally got out and up again?" When no response came George continued. "Ginny came into my room yelling, screaming, crying. She slapped me, punched me, cursed me, and dragged me out by the only ear I had left, almost pulling it off, saying that I was going to be up and walking before she went back to Hogwarts. She also threatened that if she heard while she was at Hogwarts that I had once more locked myself in my room that she'd leave Hogwarts to deal with me herself." By then Lysander had lowered his blankets and was starring at George with wide eyes. No wonder James and Al were terrified of their mom.

"I realized then that I wasn't the only one suffering from my brother's loss," George said quietly. Lysander opened his mouth to say he knew others were hurting as well but George beat him there. "I realized by doing what I was doing...it was just making it worse. It's making it feel...like you've both died."

Lysander froze, starring at George with wide eyes. "You're parents have just lost a son...now their other son is practically empty – lost. Keira has just lost her father – a two year old girl can't understand that. But when she grows older, even though she'll have so many people, she will never have her dad, never really know him – and the one who knows him the best, who will connect her to him the most, will be his twin brother – but if he's not there..." George trailed off as Lysander's eyes fluttered shut, tears running down his face. Keira was a soft spot for him – it was for all of them.

"How do you deal with the pain," Lysander whispered shakily, and George leaned back again as he starred into space.

"It's hard," George finally said, pain lacing his voice. "You've just lost your other half."

The two sat their silently for a while, before Lysander finally whispered, barely audible "Does it ever go away."

George turned to look at Lysander, brown eyes meeting blue. Finally he whispered, "No."

* * *

**I've had this idea running through my head for awhile - kind of a different way to show George's pain for losing his twin.**

**-Ley**


End file.
